


Waiting

by theweightofmywords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Azkaban, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5012179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweightofmywords/pseuds/theweightofmywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He buried his face in the pillow as he laid down on his half of the bed, and he tried not to think about Draco, alone in his cell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.

With leaden legs, Harry emerged from his fireplace in the early evening. Standing beside the mantel, he looked at their flat; two cups of tea and two plates sat in the sink, the air still smelled like Draco’s cologne.

“I’ll be back later,” he had told Harry, as he put on his finest robes.

He knew that the nonchalant tone he had been using the entire week had been a mask for his own fear. Draco’s bravado in the face of his trial was his way of having courage, his way of trying to take care of Harry.

“I’m trying to be positive, Potter. No use in worrying,” Draco had shrugged as he fixed Harry’s tie.

“Thanks, Draco,” Harry had replied. He had always been rubbish at dressing himself for formal occasions.

“Thank _you_ , Harry,” Draco had murmured.

And now, the silence of their flat disturbed Harry. He moved towards their bedroom and sat on their bed. His eyes felt dry and heavy as he reached for the pillow from Draco’s side. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes.

Five years in Azkaban.

They had locked eyes as the sentence was declared. Draco’s face was set like stone in an unreadable expression, but as he was walked past Harry, his expression broke.

“Harry-”

“I love you-”

“I love you-”

“I’ll wait-”

“Don’t worry-”

But before long, the room was empty, save for Harry.

He buried his face in the pillow as he laid down on his half of the bed, and he tried not to think about Draco, alone in his cell.

Instead, he thought of Draco’s waving arms as he danced in the kitchen while making dinner. He thought of his face when Harry would catch him staring at him from across the room, of his determined eyes when he was trying to learn how to play the guitar. Harry remembered Draco’s soothing voice when he’d wake him up from his nightmares, the feel of his arm sprawled over his chest in the morning light, how his posture slumped almost imperceptibly after they fought, his quavering voice when they made up, Draco’s eyes when he confessed that he was scared to go to Azkaban, the way his mouth set when he admitted that he thought he deserved it, the hesitation in his touch the first time he stayed over, his confusion and awe when Harry told him that he loved him.

Lying still on his half of the bed, the red light of the fading sun stretching long across their bedroom, Harry began his waiting.


End file.
